I haven't seen James all day, so I'm going to plan some studying by myself instead. I shouldn't have expected him to be in after the way Warren beat him down yesterday. Poor little guy. Ah, now I feel patronising and like I'm stereotyping him. Even geeks can fight - ah, what am I saying! Enough. Change of subject.
So, anyway, I've decided to take revision into my own hands. So here I am in the library, in the Maths section. My favourite. I browse through the plentiful stock of different textbooks and pause every now and then to take one out and flick through the pages. If it looks helpful, I'll stick it under my arm, otherwise I stuff it back in place.
I come round the next corner and start to walk sideways, like a crab, as I read the passing titles. I don't realise someone's backing towards me, also. We collide, and both jump, and my books fall. I make sure it's not Warren before leaning down to pick them up myself. It's actually Tim Bagwell, from my Maths class.
"Oh, hey." I laugh a little, standing again, with my books in my arms.
He smiles back, "Hey. Sorry about that."
I shrug forgivingly, "I wasn't looking either."
"Weren't you involved in that fight yesterday, with those two new kids?" He intrusively asks.
I feel a little tweak of annoyance, "You mean Warren and James?... Yeah, I was, why?"
He shakes his head harmlessly, "Nothing really - just that everyone's talking about it, innit. Warren's a beast, mate, I wouldn't test him."
I feel proud of Warren. Is that weird? That the guy who is interested in me is seen as someone with power and respect? No, not weird. Any girl would feel the same. Her man is a hunk who people are scared of, even though I see his soft, romantic side. Duh.
"But that James - that's his name?" Tim waits for me to nod before continuing, "Odd little thing."
"He's sweet actually." I defend him, continuing to look through some books.
Crap. I'm doing it again. Sticking up for him as though he's my little brother. Stop it, Alicia, give it up. He needs to learn to handle himself.
"He paid me a fiver so I'd move out of my seat, so he could be next to you. Then he paid me five more so I'd keep it a secret - guess that was a waste." Tim laughs to himself.
But I don't find it funny. I stare at him with slits for eyes - because I'm angry, yes, but also because I'm confused. I'm unnerved. That couldn't be true.
"Whatever," I snicker indifferently to comfort myself, "James wouldn't do that... A-and if he did... it's because I'm the only person in this school who's been nice to him. You're all bullies."
I turn to walk away, but something Tim says holds me where I am. It's so coincidental that he said what he did, which makes it impossible for it to actually be a coincidence.
"Alright, chill out - didn't know he was your little brother or nothin'." He scoffs in sarcasm before walking off, shaking his head.
Ouch. I growl with anger and storm over to the desk to have the four books scanned that I've chosen. Once that's done, I sign the date book and make my leave from the quiet, smelly library. The bell is about to ring; I'll make the bus. I'm walking faster than usual - my nerves are racing. My heart's thudding. It's what Tim told me. James paid him? That's slightly... weird. But would he really? The people here are right bastards. I wouldn't be surprised if Tim had made that shit up just to see him completely friendless. And that comment about him being my little brother - he hadn't just made that up. Clearly, he's noticed that I'm James' friend. The facts all add up.
I wait outside for the bus to come. But before it can arrive, a quirky, blue little car pulls into the car park and makes the long way round. There's spaces all over, but the person doesn't park. They come towards me - I stand, because my instincts tell me that whoever's driving is here for me. And I'm right. The window is down, so I see James very clearly. His face is bruised and he has stitching on his left eyebrow and the left corner of his mouth.
"Sorry I'm late - need a lift?" He comically asks and flashes me a cheesy smile - or, as much of a smile as he can without hurting his cut.
I put one hand on my hip and smile playfully, "Where've you been mister?"
He runs a hand over his head, "Studying, of course. You still interested for Maths? I see you've got the books."
He nods to the textbooks in my hanging hand. I don't take any longer to decide; I pace round the front of the car and get inside through the passenger's door. The engine purrs, James turns up the radio, and we drive out. He's playing the best song ever, Sweet Home Alabama.
"I love this song!" I yell happily, smiling at him.
He nods in agreement, "Same!"
I relax for the rest of the short journey. James isn't a half-bad driver. Gosh, if my mum knew how many boy's' cars I had gotten into in the last week, she'd have a heart attack. Please, God, don't let her find out. We arrive at James' house about 15 minutes later and the memories come back to me from that night at Ricky's. I tuck some hair behind my ear; Gosh, how embarrassing...
"My mum's not in, don't worry." James chuckles; he obviously noticed the dread on my face.
I blush, "How'd you know I was thinking about that?"
"You tucked your hair back." James softly told me.
Aw, how sweet. He remembers my body language. That's when you know you're going to become good friends with someone - when they pick up on things so easily and remember them. He cherishes my habits.
We leave the car in the driveway and make our way inside. He takes me into the kitchen, where he pours me a glass of ice-cold juice from the fridge, then we carry on and pass through into the spacious study. The carpet is a deep maroon and the walls are chocolate brown, just like all the furniture - shades of brown. So relaxing.
"This is lovely." I comment dreamily as I admire the shades.
I sit down in a chair and set out my books and get my notepad and pens at the ready. James moves opposite me.
"It's best if we work opposite, rather than beside." He explains, so I don't get the wrong idea.
We get started in algebra first. I don't find it the most difficult topic - but I catch on quickly with James. He listens to me, and doesn't make me feel stupid if I get something wrong. Our Maths teacher does this face, where she sort of freezes and just stares at you as if you're going to give her the correct answer. It makes you want to hide under the desk.
"... so that means it's... 3q?" I reply to James' question, although I'm worried I'm wrong.
He smiles proudly, "You got it."
"I did??" James laughs and nods, "Sweet! Aw, thank you so much for this James. I'm so glad you became my friend."
Of course I wink after this, as I'm only teasing. Maths tutoring isn't the only reason I'm his friend. But then... what Tim told me earlier suddenly echoes in my head. I can't keep my mouth shut - I have to say something. Casually, I'll laugh, and show him that I'm not agreeing. I just want him to be aware that there are bastards in our school. He has to get thicker skin...
"I was talking to Tim in the library earlier, James," I coolly fiddle with my pencil while I watch him scribble down some more equations for me to do, "He, um... he said something quite silly. It was about you."
James looks up, but he doesn't seem very bothered, "Oh?"
I continue as naturally as I can, "Yeah, he was such a wanker. He was like, telling me how you apparently paid him money so you could sit next to me in Maths. Remember our first lesson together? Pfft. Then he said you paid him five pounds more so he wouldn't say anything... even though he has. Which completely proves he's lying."
I roll my eyes and show my disbelief by giving a little chuckle and looking down at the paper. Yet, James remains looking at me. It's not long before I return my gaze to him. He looks... embarrassed.
"Don't worry, he's just a prat ok?" I feel guilty now, "I'm sorry; maybe I shouldn't have told you... I just want you to be aware. The people at this 6th form are quite bitchy, and you need to know how to stick it... ya' know?" I laugh faintly, "I mean, come on, it's not like it's true..."
I laugh again and go to read the sums James has written out for me... but he's still staring right at me. What's going on? Looking up one last time, I suddenly detect the truth in his eyes. No way.
"It's not ... is it?" I cautiously and warily ask James; my voice is quiet, and subtle.
James doesn't really know what to say at first. He seems uncomfortable. Rather lost. I lean back in my seat and observe... It can't be true.
"It's not what you think," James huffs wearily; he doesn't know where to start, "I just wanted to make friends quicker. You were nice to me first, so I thought I'd help myself a bit..."
Wow, I was right? He really was just trying to become closer friends with me? Aw, that's both sad and adorable, the fact that he paid someone just to get close to me. At least it wasn't out of any romantic hopes.
"I didn't fancy you then." James nods, more to himself though.
I raise a suspicious eyebrow, "... Then?"
James stares intensely at me, "Ally... I really like you."
I suddenly feel really, completely, absolutely, totally out of place. I have to go. I can't sit here and just let him stare at me... It's awkward.
James continues, however, "And you've been flirting with me."
I laugh automatically, "What??"
"Linking my arm, protecting me, smiling at me all the time - I'm not stupid. I can see it - see the obvious. You can just tell me, now... because I've told you. It's ok that we like each other." James goes to slide his hand onto mine, but I flinch back.
James blinks. His eyebrows furrow together. He's completely confused. Just as much as I am.
"James... I'm flattered, really... but you've got it wrong," I shake my head sympathetically, "I like Warren, and Warren likes me too... I know he didn't mean to hurt you, he just cracked. He's been under a lot of pressure probably. There's more to it than meets the eye."
James' face transformed. Now... he held no emotion whatsoever. I didn't quite know how to take it. He either accepted bad news really well, or he was trying to hide his feelings.
"You're taking his side. I understand... I think you should go now." James calmly tells me; but it's his calmness through the situations that really disturbs me.
He stands up and walks to the door. I'm in shock. How did it end up like this? One minute we were laughing and hanging out like close friends, and the next...? This? I should have stopped him walking out, but for some reason I didn't. I just let him go. He wanted to be on his own, so that was the least I could do. Slowly, I pack my things away and leave the silent, eerie, room, back through the kitchen, and out to the front door.
It opens, then and there, and in steps James' mother. She grins at the sight of me, as though I'm a relative she hasn't seen in a while.
"Ally, darling! How are you?" She merrily greets me and gives me a touch-cheek-kiss.
I return the fake kiss, "Uh - fine, thanks... I'm just about to head home, actually."
"Oh," She blinks oddly, but smiles again instantly after, "Well, I might as well drop you home, I'm off to the town in a mo anyway."
I feel rude, so I try to refuse, "Oh, no, really"-
"Come on, don't be silly." She makes one of her high-pitched, bird-like giggles and ushers me out the door.
I guess there's really no choice. Like mother, like son. She gives me no choice, just like James gave me no choice in our friendship. He jumped to conclusion and made up an assumption for his own satisfaction. I feel bad... Did I lead him on, really? No.
How could you do this to me, Ally? I gave you everything I could. And I was willing to give you so much more - my heart, my life. I understand that my confession was a shock to you... but I know you feel the same. You would have made a bigger reaction if you truly didn't feel that way about me. You would have found it fucking hilarious. But no... you played it cool. Gave a sharp snicker of shock, then pretended.
Well no more games. I'm tired of playing. I just wantyou to love me so passionately that it burns you out from the inside. Is that so much to ask for? I'm deeply, madly in love with this girl. I have to take it one, last step further.
I have to get her to be honest with me, because without honesty in a relationship, there's no trust. And without trust, there can be no true love. I'll show her one, last time. I'll give her one final opportunity to confess to me... this is it - make or break.
Make our love, or break my heart.
